


Light in the Dark

by SwoodMaxProductions



Category: Dead Cells (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Fainting, Fear, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pain, Pre-Canon, Rescue, Shaky Hands, Spoilers, Tending to Wounds, Whump, casual mention of nonhuman traits, supportiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27296092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwoodMaxProductions/pseuds/SwoodMaxProductions
Summary: "The bodies have woken up again. And this darkness... I can no longer continue my experiments on the Malaise here."A certain scientist is mauled by supernatural darkness and rescued by a friendly spider.
Kudos: 18





	Light in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I love the Collector. I love him so much.

He knew he couldn’t stay here.

This was a death trap. Even on top of the bodies of the dead repeatedly trying to kill him, even during autopsy, the  _ darkness… _ this place operated by laws of reality that didn’t comply with that of the outside world. They called this place the Forgotten Sepulcher, and maybe it would have been better to allow it to remain forgotten.

His hands shook as he packed up as much as he could, his claws briefly rattling against every glass vial. He mentally prayed the sound didn’t alert any of the lurking revenants.

Every second felt like a minute, every minute seemed like an hour. His notes were important, he wasn’t leaving them in this place, but he only had so much fuel left in the lantern that was the only barrier between him and the hungering shadows. He had to work fast. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Slinging the bag of his possessions onto his back, he stumbled. He still wasn’t quite used to the loss of his tail at the Morass of the Banished. But his balance was still alright— and besides, it would grow back eventually.

He ran. He didn’t want to spend any more time in this hellish underworld. The darkness was so thick he could feel it in the air, sticking in his lungs and making it hard to breathe. He wasn’t even sure he was going in the right direction. All he knew was he had to get  _ out. _

The lamps were fewer and fewer as he pressed on, and he grew more and more desperate. His lantern wasn’t doing much against the writhing shadows reaching greedily for him. 

Without warning, a hook tore his feet out from under him, and he hit the frigid stone floor hard. Icy terror hammered into his chest as his meager lantern shattered and went out. He ran. He scrambled to his feet as the monster’s footsteps approached, and he  _ ran. _

The monster, he could outrun, even with the bag on his back. The darkness, on the other hand, was closing in. He could swear he could feel it becoming denser around him, making every movement harder and sucking the air from his lungs.

He let out a yelp at the feeling of being cut. His hand instinctively darted to the area, warm and sticky, and he realized he was  _ bleeding. _ His horrified realization was interrupted by another cut, and he tried to speed up, but he’d been running for quite some time, and it was taking its toll. A third cut came, faster this time, and a fourth faster still.

He screamed as the darkness clawed at him, frantically groping his way along the walls, his voice’s echoes swallowed by the abyss. There were no more light sources. He was running out of time.

He was running out of  _ blood. _ He collapsed, gasping for breath, crying out in pain. He couldn’t claw his way back up again. The pain was excruciating, and only getting worse. He was going to die here.

And then, there was a flash of light.

The darkness retreated, leaving the poor scientist slumped, panting, on the floor, warm blood flowing freely from his trembling body. He looked up to see a being wreathed in spectral fire, some unearthly fusion of woman and spider.

“You are safe, Alchemist.”

Her voice was ethereal and soft. She meant him no harm, but… how did she know…?! He laid his head back down with a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. He’d lost a lot of blood.

He vaguely registered the sensation of being gathered up like a rag doll before a perfect storm of stress, exhaustion, and blood loss overtook him like a tidal wave.

The former Royal Alchemist fainted in her arms.

~~~

He felt the powerful sting of a wet rag against his shredded skin, felt gentle hands carefully wrapping up his wounds. The Collector opened his eyes to find the same otherworldly woman crouched down on her arachnoid legs, tending to his injuries. She turned her masked face to him as she noticed him regaining consciousness.

“Welcome back.”

He was lying on… cushions? The same ghostly fire filled sconces on the walls, and even floated in the air. His bag was propped up nearby. There were statues, tables, and bookshelves, but no chairs anywhere in the room, only more cushions. Perfect for a centaur-shaped body. This was her home.

“Your mission is a noble and selfless one. Perhaps a bit  _ too _ selfless, Alchemist.”

“H… How do you…?”

“I have my ways. I see many things, and know many things. I am the guardian of this place. I am called Khepri. The Malaise came to these sacred catacombs just as it did elsewhere. This is not the origin point of the foul plague. There are answers for many things here. But none are the answers you currently seek.”

Another failure. Of course.

“...I see.”

“You are a good man. When you are ready, I will guide you back to the outside world. If there is anyone who can save this island, it is you. But you must think of yourself as well…”

“...Thank you. For… for everything.”

Her words were important to him. Someone… believed in him. For the first time in years, the Collector felt as though a cure really was possible. That his efforts weren’t in vain. That there was  _ hope. _

“You’re welcome… Collector.”

**Author's Note:**

> HAVE I MENTIONED I LOVE THE COLLECTOR
> 
> Also, Khepri is the name of the scarab beetle deity from ancient Egyptian mythology responsible for pushing the sun into the sky every day, so my mythology nerd ass decided it’d be a good name for our bug-taur lady.


End file.
